Deception
by Callie Osgood
Summary: We all know that Neolle kidnapped herself, and that Reed is her sister. In Vanished, we find this out from Reed's point of view. But what did Noelle do throughout Vanished?
1. Instructions

DISCLAIMER: All rights belong to Kate Brian

Dedications: JennyLange, my most avid reviewer.

A/N: Sorry if this isnt as good as you expected, cause I'm still trying to get used to Noelle's personality. I'm really relying on my copy of Vanished for this one.

A strong gust of wind filled our BLS meeting place and the candles that once shared with us its warmth and glow were blown out. Almost at once, I knew this was the chance I had been waiting for.

I slipped off quietly to one of the doors and let out a scream, then banged on the walls and door for effect as I tipped the contents of my bag to the floor before dropping my bag. I then left the old wreck, running towards the two glowing lights up ahead, which proved to be the family limousine. We then drove off, leaving Reed to wonder where I had gone. Everything was going according to plan.

~Flashback~

My new iPhone rang. The caller ID read Lenora. Great. Just what I needed after discovering Reed is actually my sister. I reluctantly answered the phone.

"Yes, grandmother?" I said, trying to sound polite although I was close to swearing at her for calling me at this ungodly hour of three in the morning.

"Have you told her?" she asked.

"Told who?"

"Reed,"

"No. I just can't. I don't know how,"

"I knew you hadn't"

"How?"

"Because I know everything,"

Maybe In had gotten my arrogance from her.

"So what do you suggest, I keep it from her so she'll never have my Lange fortune?" I mused.

"No, child. I have a plan."

"Okay. Whatever. Get it done then fill me in,"

"It's not that simple. We're going to need your help."

~End of Flashback~

That's how it began. I picked up my spare iPhone, and texted Reed's number with what my grandmother wrote.

**WE HAVE NOELLE LANGE. IF YOU GO TO THE POLICE, SHE DIES. IF YOU GO TO HER FAMILY, SHE DIES. IF YOU GO TO THE HEADMASTER, SHE DIES. YOU WILL FOLLOW OUR EVERY INSTRUCTION TO THE LETTER, OR SHE WILL DIE. THE GAME IS ON, REED BRENNAN. THE PRIZE? NOELLE'S LIFE.**

I hit send, then snickered. I wish I could have seen the look on Reed's face when she got the text. She probably didn't sleep. Or shower. Maybe she couldn't even change her underwear. Ugh. How disgusting. If she keeps this up, they are never going to let her go to the Hamptons with me.

I wonder what I am to do in the next two weeks. Go to the spa, get my hair done, a professional manicure and shopping in Paris, perhaps? As for what Reed is going to do, I can only say it's not going to be pretty. Although I wish I could be there to watch her humiliation.

Seven hours passed and I woke up, fully refreshed. I wonder how Reed is doing. I wonder if she could sleep the night before. Now I had to wait for further instructions for my grandmother. I really hate this—not being in charge, I mean.

I got dressed and headed to the spa. Sitting around like this bored me to no end.


	2. Assignment Duo

Disclaimer: All elements of Private belong to Kate Brian.

A/N: Well, sorry for making it seem like Noelle is really mad at Reed. Too much writing in Ariana's POV. lol

At the spa, I went to my usual private chambers, which I overheard the receptionist saying was for 'obscenely rich' people. I suppose she was referring to me. I mean, who else could she be talking about? As I lay down waiting for my tortoise-slow masseuse, I opened my bag and took out my iPhones to check for text messages. I discovered that I had received further instructions from my grandmother.

I absolutely hate being told what to do. Couldn't she do the texting? Anyway, at least it gave me a chance to know what was going on. If there was anything I hated more than following orders, it was being left in the dark. The sense of clueless-ness is like torture.

As I said, I hate following orders. That is why I took my iPhones with me into the massage parlour even though it was against their regulations. They can't tell me what to do. Just then, my masseuse, Sapphirea, came in. At least, I think that was her name. She looked about 28 and her hair had that same bleached yellow hue as Ariana's, although her eyes were glass green like Paige's. Speaking of Paige, I had just gotten a text from her.

**Well, Noelle. On a break, are we? Ur lapdog Reed just called me all the way 2 Connecticut 4 no reason. I hope ur happy.**

Sighing, I shut the phone and moved on to more important things. Like my spare iPhone, which was white. I bought it specially for the mission. Okay, Lenora did. She insisted we get a spare phone. I told her we could just get a spare SIM card but she said she liked doing things in style. But now I had more important things to do, like texting Reed.

**THE GAME BEGINS NOW. IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE NOELLE ALIVE AGAIN, YOU WILL HAVE TO COMPLETE FOUR ASSIGNMENTS. DO EXACTLY AS WE SAY AND TELL NO ONE. ASSIGNMENT NUMBER ONE: HAVE GRANDMOTHER LANGE SIGN A LETTER EXCUSING NOELEL FROM SCHOOL FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS. NO FAXING, TEXTING OR EMILS ALLOWED. GRANDMOTHER LANGE MUST BE APPROACHED IN PERSON. THE LETTER MUST BE AN ORIGINAL, WITH AN ORIGINAL SIGNATURE. NO FORGERIES ACCEPTED. WE'LL BE WATCHING YOU.**

Well, to be honest, I'd love to see the look on Reed's face when she gets this. I don't; hate her or anything. It's just that it's so fun to see people being slowly played into setups, without even realizing it themselves. The best part is that I don't need to lift a finger; apart from checking and forwarding texts and coming up with assignments two and three.

That very night, I hopped on a plane to New York. I intended to go shopping of course. What else is there to do at a time like this?

I walked down the pavement in front of my five-star hotel on a Friday evening, armed with shopping bags overflowing with Armani, Valentino, et cetera et cetera. I had to get my things together because my grandmother was summoning me to Paris, France. Apparently Upton came by earlier, asking for the signature. Lenora was sending her private jet to the airport to personally pick me up. She says scheduled flights are far too slow.

I got on the plane with five huge suitcases, which I tipped the taxi driver two hundred dollars to carry to my jet. He looked shocked. As if he'd never received a tip before. I half-expected him to drop to his hands and feet and kiss the ground at my feet. He looked _that_ happy.

"Good evening, Miss Lange," the pilot greeted me, all the while eyeing the cab driver who was busy with my luggage.

"Okay, Pilot. Bring out the booze. I haven't had a drink in like, three days," I said. "Hey, taxi chauffeur, wanna have a drink?"

"I'd love to. But I don't drink and drive."

"Suit yourself," I shrugged. The pilot brought out the champagne.

"You're not having any of that," I said, taking the bottle from him. "The last thing we need is a plane crash." I drank, quite happily. It would have been a lot nicer if Dash were here, though. I never remembered finishing that champagne.

When I woke up I found myself in one of the eighteen bedrooms in my grandmother's Paris home. She was sitting on a chair by my bed with an annoyingly stern look on her face.

"Noelle. What did I tell you about drinking?" she asked. I don't remember her ever saying anything against the occasional cup of alcoholic delight.

"What about drinking?" I asked, my words clipped.

"The next time you want to drink, at least invite me."

I smiled. This was so like her. "Don't I get a Visa or something?"

"A Visa? No."

"So I'm going to be stuck here an illegal immigrant? What if I get arrested?"

"Ah, Noelle. So clueless. There is always the art of bribery."

"Right. So why did you call me?'

"For assignments two and three."

"You could have just texted me!" I protested.

"Noelle, it's Saturday now. We need someone to keep an eye on Reed."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking of asking one of the Hathaways or her boyfriend."

"You were thinking of asking Boy Scout? No way." Appalled, I sat up in bed.

"Leave it to me. I'll help myself to their numbers," she said, lifting my iPhone from my bag.

"That's all you wanted to say?"

"Technically, yes."

"You could have just called!"

"Yes, but it's more fun this way."

Fun? Fun for her, maybe. Imagine having a tiring day shopping in New York and suddenly having to leave for Paris in a private jet in the middle of the night.

"We also need to come up with how to set things up on that camp in Soldier Woods."

"Right… so when do I get to send the second assignment?"

"Patience, Noelle… I've already sent someone to call our spy. We still need to send her the assignment response, yes?"

Suddenly, her phone beeped and she flipped it open to read her text. "Send the next one," she told me.

**ASSIGNMENT ONE COMPLETE. GOOD WORK. STAND BY FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.**

Sunday morning. The five strong, steady yet melodious bells of Notre Dame chimed through the streets of Paris. Of course, I stayed in the mansion. I wouldn't be able to understand their French sermons anyway.

"Do we send Assignment Two yet?" I asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's Sunday. I'm keeping holy the Sabbath day.

"No way." I couldn't believe it.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Outside was what looked like a whole behind-the-set crew. "Who's that?"

"Just the filming crew," Lenora said casually. So much for keeping holy the Sabbath day.

"What's up with the filming crew?"

Grandmother Lange ignored me as she met with what seemed to be the boss.

"Noelle, meet Mr. Orville. He directed almost all of the movies Rinnan Hearst was in. You know Rinnan Hearst, right?"

"Yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Orville." I can't believe I'm acting all pleasant. Rinnan Hearst, of course, was Cheyenne's stepmother, probably—no, most definitely—after the Martin fortune and at present, happily living off it in addition to her movie- generated money.

"Why exactly do we need the movie crew again?"

"Reed isn't stupid, Noelle. Sooner or later she is going to want proof."

"And what if I don't want to do this? What if I have more important things to do?"

"Well, Noelle, you don't really have a choice."

The makeup artist tried to make it look as real as possible. It may have looked real, but it sure as hell didn't feel real. They even gave me a three-line script. It read, 'Reed. Whatever they're telling you to do, just do it! Please!' And I was supposed to look all desperate and afraid and helpless. That is _so_ not my character. But somehow it is linked to Billings. This whole deception scandal is supposed to reveal a part of Billings, as crazy as that sounds. Something about an ancient book and that fleur-de-lis necklace Ariana always wears. That is as much as I know.

"Noelle is an excellent actress," I overheard Mr. Orville tell my grandmother after I did the scene. Well All Billings girls had to be good liars but not all of us were good actresses. When they had left with an apparently 'huge' check, I went to look for my grandmother.

"You're not going to tell me who the spy at Easton is, are you?"

"Noelle. Everything needs to be flawless. Just about everyone needs to focus on their individual jobs to make this work."

Implication: Everyone except Grandmother Lange herself, who was perfectly happy being in charge.

"So what have you planned for Assignment Two?"

I told her my plans. Now I only needed her approval.

"Okay."

Monday. We had just received word of a certain Valentine's Day dance they were going to have at Easton. It doesn't seem like something the Billings girls would attend, but you'd never know how Reed will do things. She'd probably get the others to go, too. I flipped open my iPhone.

**ASSIGNMENT NUMBER TWO: STEAL SOMETHING FABULOUSLY** **EXTRAVAGANT FROM A SHOP IN EASTON; THEN MAKE SURE TO WEAR IT AROUND CAMPUS FOR ALL TO SEE. GET CAUGHT AND NOELLE DIES. TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS TEXT AND SHE DIES.**

I hit send. I wonder what Reed will choose. Last year, Kiran had shoplifted from Sweet Nothings. The poor thing had been bored to death before her kleptomania episode. Perhaps I should try shoplifting someday, if I ever get bored of the normal buying process. And while this dilemma I pondered, I prepared assignment number three.


End file.
